


Partners In Crime

by Enyax



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: !Billionaire Erwin Smith, AU, Adult Eren Yeager, Adult Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Alternate Universe, Ambiguity, Angst, Casino fic, Death, Fake Identities, Las Vegas, M/M, Millionaires - Freeform, This aint fluffy so turn back now, Tragic Pasts, do not expect too much romance, hackers n shit, mafia, mysterious levi, poker dealer Eren
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-17 11:23:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11850567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enyax/pseuds/Enyax
Summary: Eren Jaëger is 22 years old and a poker dealer at an elite casino in Las Vegas. One day an unfamiliar face shows up and Eren can’t help but be intrigued about this mysterious and aloof man. He’s dying to find out more, his judgment getting the better side of him. He may uncover truths that he wishes he hadn’t. They do say that curiosity killed the cat.





	1. Prologue

 

My name is Eren Jaëger. 22 years old. Of German descent. I have one adopted sister, Mikasa of Japanese descent. I’ve had a peaceful life so far. As peaceful as it can get in the US. More specifically, the infamous city of Las Vegas. The city known for gambling, gang wars, crimes and drugs. Currently, I’m sitting in a dimly-lit motel room, fake identity sitting on the nightstand with its corresponding passport. 5000 dollars left in cash. On the run from _them._ I’m living in constant fear, paranoid that _they’ll_ find my whereabouts and do unimaginable things to me but I can only blame myself for the consequences. I pretty much signed my own death warrant the second I got involved.

I’d had some ups and downs in my life but they were small tidal waves and when I got lost in them, I had always found myself washed ashore. But I don’t think anything in this world could have prepared me for the tsunami that would leave paths of destruction in its wake. I had almost drowned.

If I could pinpoint the moment in my life when this tsunami began to gradually come to be, it would be two years ago. My parents were still alive. Their multi-national business had been running smoothly. Almost too smoothly. I had time to waste, so with Father's recommendation, I had landed a job at a small, elite casino in the city of Las Vegas. Fooling around with cards was second nature to me so I had earned the position of a poker dealer. At first, the job had solely entertained me. Judging everyone that entered and left the casino was pretty much in the job description. Considering that all of the members were elite, there were two types of players; the foreign members who couldn’t speak more than 500 words of English (at least 20 of those being specifically poker terms) and the pompous American billionaires. I had a load of fun making up back stories for each and every regular member, reading their smallest change in expression, watching their clever ways of cheating. I definitely wasn’t lacking entertainment there.

Until he walked in. An unfamiliar face.

Being a part of the casino had trained my observational skills. I knew the face of everyone who entered this casino, regularly or irregularly. I had a grasp of everyone’s status and background. I even knew who’s footsteps were who, that’s how familiar I was with this place.

It was around 11:00pm when the door had slowly swung open during the middle of a game. It was bizarre that someone had decided to show up during the middle of a game and not at the beginning. Maybe I should’ve taken that as a sign. Silence enveloped us. Nobody looked up from their cards. The sound of footsteps filled the room. If I could compare those footsteps to an animal’s, it would be a cat. Quiet and somehow elegant. My interest was piqued as I hadn’t recognised those footsteps before. They came to a halt after a moment. The sound of a bar stool being pulled out echoed in the gaming hall. My back was turned to the bar in the corner so I pretended to move to the other side of the poker table to check if anyone was cheating.

Now seated at the bar was a man of small stature with a pitch black undercut. Everything about him screamed ‘authority’. His well-built form was clad in a flattering, dark navy suit. I almost raised an eyebrow when I noticed the Bregeut around his wrist. That brand originated from the Renaissance and it was almost impossible to obtain one these days. That alone made me wonder what he did for a living until the barman asked him what drink he would be serving tonight. A husky, quiet voice cut in, laced with a slight French accent:

“Rémy Martin 1738.”

I had to fight the urge to smirk. Classic choice. The thing about this man was that he didn’t particularly stand out amongst others visually. I had seen much flashier people enter this hall but none of them screamed attention as much as this man did. I had no idea why he interested me so much. Maybe it was because of the powerful aura he practically exuded. I turned my attention back to the game. The pot had increased by 300 million dollars. Someone was feeling confident tonight. I watched as the member who had bet the extra 300 million revealed the winning hand; a full house. That was definitely not a fluke, I had watched him cheat with my own eyes earlier.

“Haha! Take that you suckers! 100 million dollars are all mine!”

Yep. Definitely one of the obnoxious billionaires.

The man had finished his drink and was walking over to the poker table. In his hand, he held a silver briefcase. He stopped in front of me. I was surprised to see that he was at least a head shorter than me.

“Would you like to join the next round?” I asked, professional and to the point. His hooded, steely eyes bore into my own, their grey colour giving off a cold impression. Somehow it looked like this man had experienced a lot in his life. He curtly nodded before sitting down at the head of the table. What a fitting position. That chair had not been used that night until he came in, almost like it was meant for him to sit there at that time and place.

I began shuffling the cards almost absent-mindedly, eyeing the man. He had piqued my interest to a point that no one who had ever stepped foot inside this hall had. What did he do for a living? Did he have a family? Was he a past soldier? Did he have PTSD? All sorts of questions flooded my mind. I realised a second too late that I had shuffled the cards for too long as all of the members had been watching me expectantly. Everyone had already put a million down as an ante to start off. I swiftly dealt the cards out. Everyone glanced over their cards, some players’ expressions hardening, others’ lighting up. It was his turn to raise.

“10 million.” The unfamiliar man had pushed a ten million chip into the pot. All of the players looked at him with amusement, some grinning. He hadn’t bet a lot. Which seemed strange to me because he seemed like such a confident person.

Oh, this would be an interesting game.

Everyone added 10 million into the pot, now making it 100 million. I placed the community cards face down on the poker table. Everyone swapped some of their cards.

“Raise by 100 million,” one of the players demanded. The pot had increased to 1.1 billion.

I placed down new cards on the poker table. The players switched cards.

“Would you like to further raise the sum of the pot?”

 “Raise by 800 million,” one of the other players called out. Everyone all did so.

Again, I placed down new cards on the table. Players switched their cards. Except for him.

“Does anyone wish to further raise the sum of the pot?” Silence. The pot now valued 1.9 billion.

“Raise by 30 billion,” the man called out.

The blood had drained from the players’ faces. Even I raised an eyebrow. Losing 4.1 million dollars for nothing was not something a sane person would do. They had no option though as 30 billion was an obscene amount that the players hadn’t even thought that such a figure would be demanded for. They had already bet so much in the pot. Initially I thought he was a dumbass for raising by that amount. I caught onto his tactic though. At the beginning, he lured the players into thinking that he was a weak player. He stayed silent throughout the middle of the game to keep a low profile. Then at the end, he bet a massive amount as if it was nothing to him so that he’d instil fear in the players. And it had worked because all of the remaining players folded, making it his automatic victory. This man was definitely manipulative. How interesting.

The man opened his silver briefcase and neatly stored all of his winnings.

“You have balls to bet 30 billion dollars like it’s nothing. What’d you do, rob a bank?” A humourless laugh echoed in the hall. Erwin Smith, CEO of one of the most successful multi-national corporations: Survery Corp™. The man’s face remained blank, almost bored.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” It was his signal for Mr Smith to end the conversation. I wanted to burst out laughing then and there.

The man stood up elegantly and turned to the poker table, hand in his pocket, leaning to the side.

“Thank you all for such a _wonderful_ game.” The bored tone he used definitely contrasted what words of gratitude he used and that amused me even more. His cat-like footsteps sounded through the hall as every member of the casino watched his retreating back in curious silence.

Presently, if you ask me if I had the chance to go back in time and somehow avoid meeting that man on that fateful night, would I? I don’t really have an answer for that.

They do say that curiosity killed the cat, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, well, well. look what the tide brought in. i'm back from the dead and the first thing I do is change my username lmao. I hope you guys have enjoyed that prologue and that it may have piqued your interest to stick around and keep on reading. hopefully i'll be updating much faster these days but quality over quantity amirite?


	2. Chapter 1: The Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1.  
> proverb  
> "Curiosity killed the cat" is a proverb used to warn of the dangers of unnecessary investigation or experimentation.

I had been luckier. Luckier in the sense that life had dealt me a pretty good hand. I was aware that others didn’t have the same privileges as I did. Not everyone was the son of a CEO. I had taken my former life for granted. I had taken normality for granted. I don’t even know what normal is anymore, the word tasting bitter on my tongue from the awful memories.

My mother, Karla Jaëger, had grown up in the suburbs. She came from a respectable family, my grandparents both being pharmacists. Intelligent and beautiful, she had climbed her way through the academic ranks and became an accountant. She began her internship at Trost Corporation. There she met my father, Grisha Jaëger, a man with a sly and cunning side, perfect for the business he ran. He had been born in the city to already rich parents. He simply rode on my grandfather’s coattails to get to where he was. They fell in love and later on I entered the big picture.

My mother was everything I had ever wished for. Kind, nurturing, loving. She would always make such delicious meals when I would get home from school and every time my father would compliment the wonderful taste, she would always answer: “It’s the secret ingredient of love, darling.” I had loved my mother so dearly. She was such a gentle person that deserved so much more. She taught me all of my morals and principles. I had looked up to my father religiously. He taught me everything about the human psyche. He taught me how to read people upon first impression, how to manipulate them and how to analyse their intentions. He had passed down all of his knowledge to me about the world of entrepreneurship.

The first big change that had happened in my life was meeting my sister, Mikasa, when I was 14. Because my father was an important figure in the world of finance, it was only natural he had protection. One of his bodyguards, Andreo Cellini, was an ex-Sicilian mafia member. Cellini had immigrated to America under a fake identity to avoid being tracked by his past group. However, he had some unfinished business to attend to back in Sicily. My father gave him a week’s leave. Peculiarly, not only did he arrive three days earlier than scheduled, he also brought back an Asian girl with him. Her parents had been the owners of Shiganshina Corp. in Tokyo. The company had gone bankrupt due to an obscene debt. The yakuza had killed her parents in front of her very own eyes and trafficked her to Sicily.

It turned out that the girl had been trafficked to the same group that Cellini had unfinished business with. He had successfully eliminated the group single-handedly. What made shivers run down his spine was when he finally looked into the girl’s eyes. Dead and emotionless. He had never seen a victim react like that to homicide. He wrapped a blanket around her and he took mercy on her, allowing her to fly back with him. The only words she uttered the entire flight back to America was: “My name is Mikasa.”

When Mikasa had arrived in the Jaëger househould, she had been eerily quiet and emotionless. For a good few months, she hadn’t said much. At first I thought the trauma had scarred her so badly that she wasn’t able to speak. My mother, being the angel she was, nurtured Mikasa like a bulb in the earth. And slowly, she began to bloom. The 21st of December was the day she finally blossomed. The fact that this flower blossomed during the harsh conditions of winter was a sign of strength and determination. It was snowing heavily and Mikasa didn’t have winter-resistant clothing on. I noticed her shivering and by now, I knew that her pride was holding her back from complaining. I unwrapped the red knitted scarf I was wearing at the time from my neck and wrapped it around hers.

“I don’t want to be responsible for you catching hypothermia, y’know,” I had lightly joked. I wasn’t expecting a big reaction, maybe a chuckle or a simple ‘thanks’. Mikasa was full of surprises. She looked into my eyes, her coal ones tearing up, brimming with emotion.

“Thank you, Eren.” Her soft voice had thanked me with such gratitude, as if _I_ had been the one who rescued her from a life of prostitution. She brought the scarf up to her nose in embarrassment.

I have never seen Mikasa without that red scarf ever since.

We became close after that day; like two peas in a pod. If possible, she fussed about me even more than my mother did. Telling me to wear a coat whenever I went out, not staying too long in the bath so that I wouldn’t pass out, texting her to make sure that I got to my destination safely. I didn’t mind though, it felt nice to share my life with another family member. That’s essentially what Mikasa had become to all of us; family. I began to share all of my thoughts and opinions with her, her never judging me regardless of what I had to say. Mikasa had become one of the most important people in my life.

 

* * *

 

 

After that one fateful night, the raven-haired stranger didn’t return to the casino for a while. I kept my hopes up though, I was just too damn curious. Unanswered questions had lingered at the back of my mind. I shuffled cards day after day, witnessed the same cheaters winning over and over again. The casino had become monotonous. My number one source of entertainment had slowly began to bore me. Until exactly a week later, _he_ showed up again. His actions were the same as the first night he stepped foot in the hall. The same elegant posture walking up to the bar in the middle of a game. The same drink order. He had won the jackpot and left without a word again. I wondered if it was by mere coincidence that he showed up here again.

Fate had a different plan, however.

The unfamiliar face began frequenting the casino and becoming familiar. At exactly 11.00 on the dot, the doors would swing open. His routine was exactly the same each night. I mentally concluded that this trait said a lot about this person’s character. Let me correct myself when I said that I had figured his tactic out. It turns out that not only did he psychologically scare his opponents, but the man was also an ace cheater. He cheated with such expertise that I had only realised what he was doing about two weeks into him becoming a regular. I briefly wondered if he cheated like this at every casino he visited. But then if that was the case, wouldn’t the police have already caught onto him? My question was later answered when I saw him losing rounds that didn’t involve a lot of cash on purpose but making up for the money lost by cheating when the sum of the pot was high.

As the weeks passed, I began to notice small things about him. How his suit attires mainly consisted of cool colours: greys and navys. How occasionally he wore a cravat instead of a tie, giving him a royal aura. How his long and slender fingers would flick the cards in impatience. How a glint of amusement would dance in his eyes whenever the players would reveal their cards and he would win the round.

Those small observations alone weren’t enough to satiate my curiosity. It was literally driving me crazy, I had to find out more about him. However, I wasn’t the only one.

Erwin Smith. Slicked back blonde hair, well built with a professional and intelligent presence. I hadn’t known too much about him at the time but one thing was for sure, something was off about him. I sensed that the second he began gambling in this hall. My hunches were proven to be correct later on.

Erwin Smith was just as curious about this new face as I was. His attempts at conversing with the man were getting bolder and bolder each time he showed up. First it began with small questions such as:

“Have you been living here for long?”

The man would sarcastically shoot down his questions in the most amusing manner.

“Define the word ‘long’.”

“What do you do for a living?”

“I breathe. How else am I supposed to live?”

“I take it you enjoy to participate in games of poker quite frequently, no?”

“Why else would I be fucking around here?”

I must have sniggered once or twice at his witty replies because he would interlock his eyes with mine and smirk. I wasn’t sure if his smirk was patronising me or if it was in agreement with mutual amusement.

The questions became more personal after a while. I will always remember the answer to one of the questions.

“So… how on earth did you get such high amounts of money? So much that you can afford to come here every night and gamble it on poker?” Erwin took a sip of his whisky on the rocks, making a point of raising his eyebrow in inquisition.

“I have a job that pays well.” The man’s expression remained blank again but the tone he used was smug; almost as if he knew something we didn’t. It was the most information he had given about himself. A glint of interest danced in Erwin’s eyes as he formed a bridge with his hands and rested his chin atop. He eyed the man across from him intensely. I felt myself gulp. It was like watching a showdown.

“And what might that job description entail? Surely it can’t be better than a position at _my_ company.”

“Oh trust me, it’s _much_ better.” A wolfish grin etched its way onto the man’s thin lips. It was the first time I had seen the man smile. It made shivers run down my spine in fear. It wasn’t a pleasant grin, I’ll tell you that. It made his features look dangerous and deadly and suddenly Erwin Smith backed off. It _must_ have scared him. No normal man looked like that when smiling. The man’s contorted features looked like something out of a horror movie. I felt my legs wobble like jelly and the colour draining from my face. That disturbing image was imprinted in my mind forever. That wouldn’t be the last.

It was then that I realised that this man was dangerous.

Usually, any other person in my situation would take that as a warning sign and back the fuck off. Not me though. If anything, that had made me even more curious than before and thanks to my curious nature, I decided to dig deeper.

I curse my curious nature to hell and back.

 

* * *

 

After that particular night, even more questions started to flood in my mind, all revolving around that man. I knew for one that he was somewhat dangerous. The scenario earlier was still fresh in my mind. I also knew that he was punctual and classic but that wasn’t helpful in determining what kind of a person he was. The more I thought about him, the more my head hurt.

I was lying face-up on my bed, staring at the white ceiling. The brightness of colour choice definitely wasn’t helping my headache. I sighed in exasperation. I hadn’t realised Mikasa had knocked on my door until she stood in the middle of my room.

“Eren? What’re you doing?” I briefly lifted my head to glance at her before letting it flop back down on my pillow.

“Jus’ thinking,” I mumbled to her. She raised an eyebrow.

“Well it has to be something important seeing as I called your name three times from downstairs and knocked on your door at least four.”

“Oh… sorry, I guess I really was lost in thought.” Mikasa sat down on the edge of my bed, the mattress barely dipping under her light frame. She really should start eating more.

“Is everything okay, Eren?” She looked at me with concern. I hated that she was always concerned about me, I felt like I had to try not to fuck up even more than usual so I wouldn’t trouble her. I let out a sigh.

“Yeah… Yeah ‘Kasa, everything’s fine…” She looked at me incredulously.

“Eren, I think I’ve lived long enough with you to tell when you’re lying to me, so spill whatever’s on your mind before I start forcing it out. You know I’m a good listener.” If I didn’t know what Mikasa was talking about, I’d probably be intimidated by her words, especially with the usual blank expression she wore. Her way of ‘forcing’ out information was tickling me until I couldn’t take it anymore. That made me crack a smile and she unconsciously did as well.

“Okay well…” She looked at me expectantly.

“A new face has shown up at the casino and at first I didn’t really think much of it but it turns out this guy’s really interesting. Just everything he does and says is a mystery and I’m itching to find out more but I can’t really, dealers don’t really make contact with the players unless it’s during the game but even then, it has to be relevant to the game.” The word vomit had begun.

“Alright, so what’s so interesting about this guy?”

“He’s so quiet and ambiguous. His routine is exactly the same. Walks in during the middle of a game, orders the same drink at the bar and joins the last round of the night. One of the players was trying to start a conversation with him but it was more of a one-way kinda thing. He asked him a few questions and I swear to God, ‘Kasa, the expression this guy made when he answered was absolutely chilling. The player backed off and didn’t say a word to him anymore. He just looked so _threatening_ and _dangerous_.” Mikasa raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything.

“I really wanna dig up more things about him, it’s literally driving me _crazy,_ especially after that reaction he had.” Mikasa looked warily at me.

“Just… be careful Eren, okay? If this guy does turn out to be as dangerous as you say, you have to promise me that you get the hell away from him _instantly_ and that you stop digging up things about him. Don’t let your curiosity get the best of you.” I nodded.

“I promise ‘Kasa.” She smiled.

“Good. Dinner’s ready. Mom and Dad are already downstairs.”

I was a fool for not listening to her while I still could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> things are just starting to slowly simmer now hehe. comments are v much appreciated as it's one of my drives for creativity :)


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